What a Little Bit of Water Can Do
by Ferdy 63
Summary: A little Daryl/Carol fluff inspired by the scene when Carol tells Daryl he needs to get cleaned up. Gotta say I wish they'd clean him up a little on the show the way they did with Rick. Still a fangirl though. Hope you like the story.


Carol looked at herself in the mirror. It was so strange to be wearing these PTA mom clothes and acting like Susie Homemaker but it was a way of hiding in plain sight and figuring out these Alexandrians. It was worth the discomfort. She'd keep smiling and having meaningless chitchat with these people as long as it took. It was what she had to do to protect her family.

She headed downstairs and out the front door. Daryl was sitting glumly on the front stoop still wearing the filthy clothes he'd had on when they first walked through the gate. If he'd washed at all, it was minimal. Possum blood still stained the porch where he'd butchered his kill yesterday. She knew that the people in town were afraid of him already because of his brooding stares and standoffishness. She had to do something.

"Hey, I told you to get cleaned up and wash those clothes?" she said as she crossed her arms and stood behind him.

"Uh huh," he replied as he worked at tightening a screw on his crossbow.

"Daryl, do you hear what I'm saying?" Carol asked a bit louder.

"Yep, I heard ya," he said without ever looking up.

"Alright then, if that's the way you want it," she huffed as she walked around him and onto the lawn.

Daryl chuckled softly to himself. Carol had a bee in her bonnet this morning for sure. He thought she looked ridiculous with her flowery sweaters and old lady pants walking around smiling at everybody. Why did any of them need to change for these pricks inside the walls? He continued working on tuning up his crossbow and paid no more attention to where Carol went.

Suddenly, a jet of water hit Daryl squarely on the head. He looked up sputtering and laid his crossbow to the side. Carol stood a few feet away from him holding the garden hose and spraying water in his direction.

"What the hell?" he yelled as he stood and marched towards her. She was giggling like a kid while she continued to spray him. She ran around the side of the house and he chased her. As they reached the back yard he caught up to her and grabbed her from behind taking the hose out of her hands. She knew what was coming so she ducked and covered her face.

"Don't you do it Daryl Dixon. I mean it. I'm already dressed for the day. Don't!" she squealed as the first spray hit her. He soaked her thoroughly, grinning mischievously the whole time. Finally she raised her arms in surrender. "Ok, I give. I give," she said breathlessly.

Daryl dropped the hose and turned off the water. Carol had settled onto the back porch steps. Water was dripping off her sweater and her hair was plastered to her head.

"Well, I guess I'm going to be late for the community meeting," she said through a smile as she wiped the water out of her eyes.

"That's what you get when you mess with a Dixon," he told her while flipping his wet hair off his face.

"I know. I just …I got frustrated with you, Daryl. You've barely spoken two words since we got here. You act like you want these people to kick you out. I hate it. I hear them talking about how they're afraid of you and I want to shake them. They don't know you," she told him seriously.

"I ain't worried about what these folks think of me," he said. "I don't like this place, these perfect little houses all lined up in a row."

"But we need it, Daryl. Judith and Carl need a safe place. We all need a chance to rest and to heal. We have to care just a little bit, at least until we figure out our next move," she replied.

Daryl chewed on his lower lip but didn't respond. That was his usual response when he wasn't sure what to say. He just didn't say anything. Carol reached over, put her hands on his cheeks and turned his face toward hers.

"I want everyone to know the real you, the man who looks for lost little girls, saves babies and feeds hungry people, the man who never gives up no matter how hard things are, the man who's loyal and brave and good. That's what's under all this dirt and grime, the man that I….that we all love," she told him earnestly as she leaned her forehead to touch his.

"I kinda like that they're scared of me," Daryl admitted. "I reckon I see what you mean though. I'll go get cleaned up, get some clean clothes."

"And no more butchering animals on the front porch," she added with a grin and a pat on his arm.

He reached over and placed his hand on top of hers. She turned her hand so that their palms touched and their fingers intertwined.

"Sorry I soaked you with the hose but I guess I got paid back," she said as they just sat and held hands.

"Thanks," he said quietly. She looked at him questioningly. "Not for the water but for what you said," he explained.

"It's the truth that's all," she said. "I know that you think these people are judging you and that you don't fit in. But, Daryl, you're better than all of them."

"Umm uh um," he mumbled.

She took his chin in her hand. "You are, Daryl. And maybe with a little of this dirt washed away they'll be able to see you more clearly. They need to trust us, to feel safe with us if we're ever going to be able to get control of Alexandria. They're not gonna survive without us but we need our weapons and we need to lock this place down. Do you see why I'm playing the happy housewife?"

"I get it," he said. "I'll do it today while you make your rounds with the community group. Guess you'll have to go find another old lady outfit and dry your hair though."

"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed. They stood together and she shucked her shoes at the back door before walking through the kitchen and up the stairs. Rick was just coming down with Judith in his arms.

"What happened to you?" he asked with a grin. "You look like a drowned cat."

"Ha ha," she said. "Ask Daryl. It's all his fault."

Rick walked to the kitchen where he found Daryl standing in a puddle and drying himself with dish towels.

"Well, I guess it was a tie," Rick chuckled. "You both lost."

"Carol came after me with the hose. Said I needed to get cleaned up cause I was scaring the neighbors," he admitted.

"Well, I have to agree with her but maybe she could have used a little less water in her persuasion," Rick said as he watched the water puddling on the kitchen floor around Daryl's feet.

"I'll go out and take my boots off," Daryl said and Rick grabbed the dish towels to dry up the water on the floor. He shook his head as he thought about how crazy it was that he was concerned about water on the floor when just a week ago they'd all been thirsty and searching for anything to drink. Things had changed so drastically that it sometimes felt like he had whiplash, like none of this was real and maybe he was back in some fever dream or coma.

Daryl came back in, letting the screen door slam behind him. He walked across the white tile floor leaving a trail of muddy footprints from the backdoor to the stairs. As he started up Carol was coming down. She changed into a light blue shirt and brown pants. Her hair was still a bit damp and curling around her face. She looked over at Daryl and grasped his hand as she walked past.

"Heading out," she called to Rick as she walked out the door. Rick watched Daryl who never took his eyes off Carol until she closed the front door behind her. There was something between those two. He just could never quite figure it out. It was like they were always on the verge of getting together but never dared to cross the line.

He pulled out a jar of applesauce and began spooning it toward Judith's mouth. As she gobbled the food down, he wondered if anything would ever happen between his two closest friends. It would be good for Daryl, for Carol too. Both of them were so closed off to other people but they seemed to understand each other without ever having to say a word. There was a time when he and Lori were that way, back when they were first together, right after Carl was born. He smiled at the memory.

Judith finished her breakfast and Rick wiped her face which she hated. He picked her up from the high chair and headed toward the front porch. It had become his habit over the past few days to walk around with her each morning and let her just enjoy the open space. She was pulling up on things now and he imagined she'd be taking a step or two any day.

Daryl walked outside to join them about a half hour later. Rick whistled at the changed man who was standing in front of him.

"Stop it," Daryl grunted. He was wearing a gray t-shirt and some faded jeans that had been pulled for them from the community closet. His feet were bare because his boots were still drying on the back porch. It was like he was looking at Daryl 2.0. Incredibly, he had even shaved.

"Hey, um, you know how to work that washin' machine?" he asked shyly.

"Yeah," Rick said. "Here take Judy. I'll get it goin' for you." Daryl took the baby and bounced her in his arms following behind Rick to the laundry room at the back of the house. Rick looked into the machine at the clothes Daryl had dumped inside.

"You sure you want to try and wash these?" Rick asked. "I don't think they'll survive it."

"Yeah, I want my own clothes. I already wiped down my vest. Shoes already got washed this mornin'. I ain't wearing their preppy shit for no longer'n I have to," Daryl told him.

"Alright, man. Your call. But I'm telling ya, these clothes may be beyond cleaning," Rick replied as he turned the knob on the washer and poured some soap on top of the clothes. He closed the lid and took Judy from Daryl's arms. "Are you gonna stand and watch it while your clothes get washed?" Rick asked when Daryl just stood there next to the machine.

"What am I s'posed to do? I'm too clean to go huntin'. Animals 'd smell me from a mile away. Deanna ain't give me no job yet. Ain't nothin' needs doin' around here. What else can I do?" Daryl asked.

"Maybe you ought to just take a day off, Daryl," Rick told his friend as he clapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay to do that now. Sasha's in the tower keeping watch. Me and MIchonne are checking the fence today. Maggie and Glenn are gonna watch Judy. Like you said, there's nothin' to do. Just sit down, take a nap, read a book, relax. If anybody has earned it, you have."

Daryl looked supremely uncomfortable even thinking about such a prospect. "I ain't too good at doin' nothin'," Daryl said while chewing his bottom lip.

"You don't have to be good at it. Just do it," Rick said before turning and leaving Daryl standing in the laundry room. He yelled back to say that he was taking Judith to Maggie and heading out to meet Michonne. Daryl was alone in the house for the first time and the total silence of the place freaked him out just a bit.

He opened the washer and looked inside. The water was completely black. He hoped Rick was wrong about his clothes not surviving. He hated the shit he was wearing now. Rather than watching the clothes agitate, he walked into the den and sat back on the perfect sofa. The whole room looked like something out of a magazine or a furniture store display. He put his feet up but it just felt wrong so he sat back up and put them back on the floor.

A shelf of books across the room caught his eye and he walked over to check out what the titles were. Most of the books were silly romance novels or spy thrillers, nothing he was interested in. One of the titles was something that did sound interesting. It was The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper. He took the book back to sofa and started reading. He became so involved in the story of the last members of a tribe fighting for survival that he didn't hear Carol come in. It startled him when she walked up and asked, "Whatcha reading?"

"Oh, hey. It's just a book I found over there. Ain't got nothin' else to do," he said.

"Wow!" she said in shock, "You look….I mean it's incredible. You look so different."

"Was it that bad before?" he asked grumpily.

"No, no. Not at all. It's not that. I just have never seen you in regular clothes like this. And you shaved. I can't wait to show you off to all the old biddies who've been calling you a wild man," she told him.

"I ain't going out in these clothes," he told her quickly.

"I know. We'll wait until later. Yours in the wash?" she asked.

"Yep. Done by now I expect," he said.

She headed toward the laundry room and he heard her opening the washing machine. "Oh my goodness," she gasped and he ran in to see what had happened. His clothes were in shreds inside the machine. "I think the dirt and blood and grime were all that was holding that material together. What about your vest?" she asked. He ran upstairs and took his vest off the shower door. It was completely dry. He slipped it on over the t-shirt and went back downstairs to join Carol. "We'll find you some more clothes that are your style. We can check the community closet or make a run. It'll be fine," she told him with a smile.

"Yeah and in the meantime I'm stuck in this crap," he shrugged.

"Believe me, Daryl, you look good. Those jeans, well they're kinda sexy," she said with a sly nod.

"Quit it," he told her as he bumped her with an elbow.

The two of them heard the door opening and walked out to meet Abraham and Glen who were looking for Rick. "Holy shitballs!" Abraham said upon catching a glimpse of Daryl. Glen just stared openmouthed and grinning at the sight of a clean and well dressed Daryl. "What the fuck happened to you?" Abraham asked.

"I took a shower, dumbass. Shut the hell up," Daryl told the two men. Glen was still just standing at the door grinning from ear to ear. "Rick ain't here no way. He's out with Michonne," Daryl reported. "Y'all can go now."

Glen couldn't help himself, "Gotta say, Daryl. This is a good look for you, kind of a casual GQ vibe."

Daryl reached out and playfully slapped him on the head. "Yeah, that's what I was goin' for," he replied sarcastically. Before the two men could open the door, Rick came through it with Michonne and Daryl had to hear the whole spiel over again.

The whole group went and sat in the den. Abraham and Glenn wanted to talk to Rick about the work Deanna had assigned to them and the plans she had for the wall. Daryl and Carol sat to the side and listened.

When the conversation was finished, Carol took Daryl's hand and told him to go get his shoes on. He walked to back and found his boots were basically dry. He hoped they would hold together better than his clothes had done. He pulled on a pair of socks and then put on the boots and laced them around the bottom of his pants leg. He realized after doing it that he didn't really need to take that precaution right now but old habits died hard.

He walked out to where Carol was waiting for him by the door. "What's goin' on?" he asked.

"I'm taking you out. We're going for a walk. I want all the neighbors to see you and I'm going to introduce you to them and you're going to be polite," she told him as she took his hand and led him out the door. He looked back to the people sitting around in the den with a plea in his eyes. Rick just grinned and waved.

"I do believe she's going to tame that man," Michonne said as they watched the two walk hand in hand along the sidewalk in front of the house.

"I think you may be right," Rick agreed.


End file.
